My Telling a Lady Lovelylocks fanfiction
by Bad Castle
Summary: More mature version of the Lady Lovely Locks tale, based on the DIC cartoon, told from one POV. In Chapter 3, I will use third-person narration because the reader may want to switch gears. K plus is suitable enough as a rating for now. Narrative is told in both present day and flashback, some backstory. So, it's not a masterpiece; I am writing strictly for fun.
1. Chapter 1

**My Telling**

(a fan fiction based on the Lady Lovely Locks cartoon)

_This is a more mature version of the Lady Lovely Locks tale, based on the DIC cartoon, told from one POV. While this first chapter is not for mature audiences, the rest will have common, but not child-oriented themes._

_I do not own Lady Lovely Locks, and the characters are not mine, unless I add an original character to this story._

* * *

She doesn't actually resemble her mother in anything but her hair color. She doesn't actually PHYSICALLY resemble her mother in anything but her hair color. And even her hair is not entirely stolen from her mother's basket of charms; oh, no, this little one (that is what I still call her) has hair of an entirely different density-it is not nearly as fine, and it has a slight wave on the bottom. It also shines more than her mother's ever did. Her mother's black was an ashy black, and she did not wear it loose often. My little one is less exacting and pays far more attention on what is going on around her than on how many clamps and sticks she can secure her hair with-as if those could secure her hair very easily. No, once she spends her time in the mornings brushing it, there she goes. She also has that fringe above her eyes her mother never would have thought to cut for herself; in those days, it was not as often seen on women. It makes it easier, I imagine, for her to care for her main charm, her hair. My darling little one-how can I say that when she and I are nothing more than employer and servant-oh, how much different would she have been if she really HAD been my little one?

Would she have had that stocky little build? Would she have had those uncommon eyes? Not in their color so much as in their shape? I can go on like this until my insides feel like they are heavier than the rest of me; this body I have carried for years with its proportions so alien to everyone here-or anywhere that I know, unless someone else has fallen under the same misfortune-what do I know, when I decided to part company with that scum whom so many supplicate themselves before. I do not know if my little one would treat me better even if my body were the common man's body-she is so focused on what her goals are, and she has done every ounce as poorly as her mother. What am I doing here then?


	2. Chapter 2

My Telling

(a fan fiction based on the Lady Lovely Locks cartoon)

Chapter 2

_I do not own Lady Lovely Locks, and the characters are not mine, unless I add an original character to this story._

* * *

I know what the people in this sorry kingdom and the kingdom of Lovelylocks call me. I match the description; the people don't really lie. It is just that I can't stand the constant, "Hairball" this and "Hairball" that - - who in this miserable region even remembers what my original name is? Many of those that would have remembered me in my original form are drooling over their biscuits or dead. It is that many years since that silver-haired misanthrope decided to ruin my already miserable existence by using one of his magnificent creatures from his mansion of horrors to turn me into The Hairball. An animal, I might add, who is now my ally, although an imperfect one under my tutelage. What methods that beautiful monster used to make Snags such a skilled weapon, I will never know.

So they call me Hairball, everyone does. Well. I would have thought that they would be merciful enough to use a name that is less of a pejorative, especially since the people of Tangleland are so browbeaten themselves. Lovelylocks people are another story - - what would they know about misery?

I am not nearly as tall as I was when I was a common man. Shining Glory, in his demented righteousness, added the insult of bestowing upon me a stature no larger than that of his dog, Prince; in fact, I believe I may be smaller than Prince. And the reason for my curse is almost as long gone as Prince's nobility.

Do not speak to anyone that I just told you Tangleland people are a sorry lot. Don't, please, repeat that to anyone. I tell you because you are a visitor and you ask, and I need to talk before I can go on with my days. I tell myself the days are not terrible since I have adequate food and adequate shelter. I trust you, and even if you were to betray me, so she puts me out. To go who knows where I wouldn't know, but I like to think that I might be able to find an existence somewhere else.

Except that I hesitate to leave Duchess Ravenwaves and strike out for lesser known territories. I still have vitality enough to do so, but I do not.

How long will you be staying? Can we meet again for drink? It has been my pleasure to talk to you so far.


End file.
